Past Midnight
by EverythingAtOnce
Summary: "She's been forced way too many times to watch those wretched horror movies. Nope. She may have been scarred for life—but she definitely actually learned something from these movies: the killer always—ALWAYS—found the victim. Of course, that is, if the victim had no way to escape." This one-shot isn't meant to be a horror story if it sounds like one; it's actually a comedy. ;D


**Okay, this story I really actually like... The idea for this one-shot totally came out of nowhere; I don't even know how it came to mind, but yeah. Seriously, as soon as it came to mind it was like "oh, I've got to write this bad boy down!"**

**So yeah! I hope you enjoy and like this! (Like, a lot because I really like this!) ;D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Alvin and the Chipmunks.**

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11:59 P.M.

She stared at the clock with ice cold blue eyes, as cold as the winter snow flaking from the clouds in gusts outside. Keeping her blow-dryer aimed at her hair, melting the ice flakes sticking to it in an icy grip, she snickered seeing the time change.

12:00 A.M.

Great. She's going to be going to bed probably at 1:00…_in the morning._ Ugh! This was so annoying to her. It was just so _unhealthy! _She wasn't going to get her proper beauty sleep because of this! She was supposed to get home by at _least _11:15!—just at the maximum by at _least _fifteen minutes past 11 'o clock! What was this world coming to?

Peering at her image that reflected in the mirror nearly sucked the living breath right out of her.

She looked absolutely _horrible!_

Her poor _hair_, her poor _makeup, _her poor _face, _her poor _clothes! _Ugh—and the list only goes on and on until the end of infinity! All she could do was feel remorse for her body, her features—everything on her, everything that was a part of her—they were suffering because of the blizzard outside slashing at everything in its way! Gosh, what does a girl have to do to stay beautiful? Especially when it came as natural as the sun rising and setting?!

At least she still looked…somewhat…_pretty_…of course, that is, when she compared herself to a witch. She pursed her lips. Why was she comparing herself to a _witch? _If there was anyone, or anything, that she would _ever_ compare herself to, it'd be simply: herself. Which cuts out the "anything" part because she wasn't a _thing _she was a _lady—_and she was an extremely attractive one too!

In other words, she was simply: Perfect.

Sighing audibly, she glanced up at the moon faced clock, ticking her precious time away.

12:03 A.M.

Ugh. Getting the urge to throw her blow dryer at the laughing bright face on the bathroom wall, she held her composure.

This was absolutely _ridiculous! _She was getting mad at a CLOCK. A simple, dumb, annoying, little clock. But this clock was a ticking time bomb. So why wouldn't she want to get rid of it?

She gritted her teeth and peeled her gaze to the image across from her, echoing her every move. She couldn't help but slightly grin. She was beginning to phase back into her original look. But she still looked pretty darn hideous. Her grin slowly drooped down.

"Stupid snow," she muttered under her breath, shuddering when the warmth of her house finally chased away the lingering chill of winter from her body.

"Brittany…?" a small, soft voice echoed into the bathroom.

Brittany flickered her eyes to the reflection of the entrance in the mirror. Standing in the opening doorway was her little sister, Jeanette, who was rubbing her eyes and placing her glasses on.

"You're home," the brunette girl, dressed in her attire of pajamas, smiled warmly as she leaned against the doorway.

"Yup…so it seems…" Brittany grumbled, continuing to blow the blaring warm air from her hair dryer at her head.

"I'm sorry—but did you say something?" Jeanette consciously pulled her free, messy brown hair behind her ears, leaning in a little.

Blinking, Brittany let out a sigh. "It's nothing, Jeanette," she shook her head, "nothing that would really be of your concern…"

Jeanette bit her bottom lip, leaning in closer. "W-wait, I'm sorry—but I-I can't hear you… Could you—could you repeat that…?"

Sighing dramatically, Brittany could only stare. _Serious? _Rolling her eyes, she peered over at her blow dryer. But then again, she couldn't really blame her—with an annoying thing such as the burning blow dryer in her hands, who would be able to hear?

Grabbing a brush off the sink countertop, she brushed hastily through her hair and spoke up, "I said it was nothing."

Jeanette furrowed her eyebrows together and gave Brittany a look of wonder. She blinked cocking her head to the side.

"Jeanette, you're not a dog," Brittany fussed, scoffing in annoyance.

Once again, Jeanette questioned, "What?"

Brittany clenched her teeth.

Alright. That was it. She was about ready to murder someone. Did she need to go buy her little sister a new pair of ears? Because if she really _had _to, she would…even though ears would be by far one of the most _disgusting _things to waste money on… Ew…good thing they didn't really actually sell ears… Her nose lightly scrunched at the thought. _Gross! _Why was she contaminating her mind with horrid things?! She huffed, eyeing her blow dryer once more.

"Jeanette!" she hollered, her temper reaching its breaking point. "_Who_ invented the _stupid _blow dryer?!" The brunette in the doorway fluttered at the sudden outburst. "I mean, honestly! Who seriously did? It must've been a guy! As much as an _ingenious_ invention the blow dryer is, it's the most annoying thing ever!" Her hand uncontrollably aimed the blow dryer in all directions like an overflowing tube spurting water out. "Who in the _world _would invent a product with such great, potential uses but the only problem with it was it was so darn _annoying?!_" she continued to rant.

Jeanette opened her mouth, "Well—"

"BOYS!" Brittany answered, fuming angrily. "_Boys! _I swear to you—they're always out to ruin us girls! They're just jealous that girls are an infinity times better!" She turned her blow dryer off, slamming her brush down on the countertop. She glared icily at her blow dryer getting ready to throw the darn thing out the window, but paused.

What was she doing? It was one thing to get mad at a person, and it was a _complete_ other thing to get mad at an _object_. What was she doing wasting her breath on a _blow dryer? _This wasn't healthy for her figure! She inhaled deeply through her nose. She needed to just chill out. She already screamed at a car for cutting her off on her way home—she didn't need to waste any more of her breath—she needed to let her voice rest. After all, she wasn't born with a naturally beautiful voice to use it in complete disgrace.

She exhaled out through her tinted lips.

Slowly setting the blow dryer down, she smiled sweetly through the mirror at her sister. "Forget what just happened." With that said she turned on her heel and breezed past her sister, who currently had her mouth gaping slightly open.

Jeanette blinked. "O-o-okay…? So, then, umm…how was your drive…?" she hesitantly asked, rubbing the sides of her arms.

Brittany halted in her steps. Her drive? If she was talking about her drive home… Well, it was _obviously _the worst drive ever! Seriously! Look at the time she came home at! The most mortifying time ever! This was going to haunt her! "Oh, Jeanette," she lightly snickered, getting ready to explode, "this drive—by far—was my most _favorite _drive _ever!_" _Not_.

"Oh…" Jeanette thought Brittany's words over thoroughly. "So…"  
"So…" she turned around to face her sister who bit her bottom lip. "This means—"

But before she could bring out her thunder, a loud _CRASH _interrupted her speech.

The two sisters froze.

"_Now what?_" Brittany hissed, irked that she was interrupted by who knows what!

"Wha-what do you think that was, Britt….?" Jeanette shyly turned around, cautiously turning around as if expecting some monster to be there.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "It was probably just nothing," she grumbled, crossing her arms. Which the fact that "it" probably _was _nothing pressed her buttons. She seriously did NOT just get cut off by what probably was something falling off of some table because it was too far on the edge, now did she?

"Brittany," Jeanette edged back, biting her bottom lip. "I don't think that was 'nothing.'" She glanced with glistening emerald eyes.

Rolling her eyes, Brittany examined her painted nails. "Jeanette, honey, I'm sure it was just nothi—"

Jeanette hushed her sister with her hand. "I think…" she began, leaving a big trail of possibilities to her next words. Brittany smacked the invading hand away, crossing her arms.

"What?!" she demanded.

Jeanette, staring in concentration, after a few more seconds passed on by, she looked at Brittany with big owl eyes. "I think I hear…voices…" She bit her bottom lip.

Placing her hands firmly on her hips, Brittany stated, "Jeanette, you know we're the only ones home, right? Ms. Miller and Eleanor aren't here, _remember?_ They won't be back until the end of this week—so, sorry if that bursts your bubble or anything; you're just going to have to deal with me—just kidding, I'm not sorry 'cause who wouldn't want to hang around with me? You are practically privileged to have someone like me be your sister!"

The timid, bespectacled brunette shook her head. "N-no, it's not that—and yes, I do love you as my sister even though there are some…err…" Jeanette glanced at Brittany for a split second, flinching away from her harsh glare, "moments…but that's not what I mean." The words stumbled out. "W-what I mean is—is that I really hear v-voices…" Brittany lamely blinked, uninterested. Whatever games Jeanette was playing with her(which was odd for her to be doing), wasn't going to played with. She knew better than to play with fire.

"I'm serious, Britt," Jeanette pressed, twiddling her thumbs, once again biting her bottom lip.

Brittany yawned. "I'm going to bed." With that said, she began to turn but got halted by a pair of hands grabbing at her arm.

"Wait! Brittany, please," Jeanette literally begged. "J-j-just go by the stairwell a-and listen. If you hear nothing, then you can leave—b-but I really think I heard something…"

Sighing, Brittany gritted her teeth. _But she wanted to go to BED! _Was it really that hard? That's all she was asking for at the moment: some rest. It's not like she's asking for the richest man's salary! Although…that would be nice… She shook her head. Why did she have to be such a _softy _towards her sister?! Ugh. It was so annoying.

"Fine," Brittany grumbled after a long period of silence. "This better be worth my time." With that said, she marched towards the stairwell.

Slowing down a little when she edged closer to the shadowed staircase, her feet began to stick to the ground more. Her steps began to be lighter, and she could feel the adrenaline begin to kick into gear. What if what Jeanette heard was true…? What if her brilliant sister really did hear voices and there were murderers in their house…? Her lips twisted uncomfortably.

Without even noticing it, Brittany had come to a complete stop. Fear began to creep up her shoulder, but before it could wrap its hands around her throat, she gave a good punch and shoved the creature away, back into the shadows. This was ridiculous. Why was she getting _afraid?_ Was it because of all the "what if" questions swarming in her mind like a bunch of hairy, annoying bees? Ew—heck no! She wasn't afraid! And this didn't mean she never _got_ afraid—it just meant that she wasn't going to be afraid over something absolutely _stupid. _

Lightly shrugging her shoulders, her legs gradually began to remember how to walk. By the time she made it to the dark abyss that engulfed the staircase like the cold night sky with the shadowed clouds, she exhaled out through her nose one last time before holding her breath. Closing her eyes, for they were obviously going to be no help at this point, her ears opened up.

_Silence._

That was all she could hear. Silence.

A grin of relief swept across her face. See? She was right. The crash _was _nothing.

Opening her eyes, she turned on her heels, but froze.

"_I don't think anyone's even here_…" A hushed whisper echoed.

"_What? Of course their home…they're probably just asleep…!_" responded another hushed voice.

Her voice got caught in her throat.

People were there to _kill _her and her sister! Creepers were in their house! Possible serial killers!

She couldn't believe it. Burning horror cracked her composure.

Her breath finally came back to her. Well, at least this night was a horrible night anyway…

Bringing her ice cold gaze up, her heart froze. But what about…Jeanette? She shook her head. What was she _thinking?! _Why was she being such a _moron?—_well, she was being a little too harsh on herself—why was she not acting like _herself? _She was BRITTANY MILLER for crying out loud! Brittany Miller. That definitely meant something.

She's been forced _way_ too many times to watch those _wretched_ horror movies. Nope. She may have been scarred for life—but she definitely actually _learned _something from these movies: the killer always—ALWAYS—found the victim. Of course, that is, if the victim had no way to escape. Which, in this case, her and her sister weren't exactly planning on jumping out the window and breaking their bones; why did their room have to be on the top floor? She sighed. There was _no way _she was going to _die _because the hiding spot she chose sucked.

Immediately, she took action, marching towards the bathroom.

By the time she came out, she came armed with her blow dryer and hairspray in hand.

"Let's go." She handed Jeanette the metallic can of hairspray.

Jeanette blinked before finally realizing what was going on. "What?" she barely squeaked out, holding her hands close to her chest, not daring to grab the pink can.

"Jeanette, there are weirdoes in our home, and we are going to make them regret ever entering the Miller residence."

She would've changed into better clothes that suited the situation—but, gosh, the dumb time wasn't getting any slower.

"Brittany…is this really the best…idea…?" Jeanette gulped.

Brittany rolled her eyes. Duh. Of course it was. _She _was the one who came up with it. "Yes, it is—now let's got kick some butt." She marched towards the stairs but paused. Marching back into the bathroom, she came back out with hot red lipstick painted perfected on her lips. "Now, let's go." She marched towards the stairs fearlessly.

If there was one thing, there was no way she was going down without a fight. This was war. And she's never lost a battle. She ALWAYS wins. No matter what.

With that thought in her mind, she confidently stepped down the dark shadows of the stairs. Pausing, she looked behind her, seeing her sister glued to the ground, still by the bathroom. She rolled her eyes, deeply sighing. Oh boy…

She beckoned firmly for her sister to come with the wave of her arm. After a few seconds, Jeanette finally peeled her feet off the ground and stumbled her way towards the stairs, clutching onto the only thing she could: the hairspray.

Brittany took in a deep out, letting her irritation escaper her lungs. As soon as she calmed, she stealthily stepped down the stairs, Jeanette cautiously trailing closely behind being tortured by fear.

The hushed voices continued to echo.

_They were in the kitchen._

Brittany creeped her way from the stairs, to the living room, now near the kitchen. She glanced, checking for her sister. Once she caught the glisten of Jeanette's glasses, confidence pumped from her heart and into her bones.

The whispers were no longer echoes, no longer having to bounce its way to meet the two sisters' ears.

Plugging in the chord to the hairdryer, Brittany readied her weapon. Glancing back at Jeanette she whispered lowly, "I'll tell you when to spray…" Jeanette nodded her head quickly, chewing her bottom lip.

They were only a few inches away from the entrance to the kitchen, on the ground. They could see two dark silhouettes. The war was equal—two on two.

Brittany breathed in deeply. Then, in the blink of an eye, she was on her feet and the blow dryer was blaring away like a siren. "NOW!" she shouted.

Jeanette, standing up, with shaky hands tried to spray, but the metallic spray can slipped from her hands. "Oh no! Britt, I dropped it—I-I'm so sorry!"

"Jeanette—!" She shook her head. There was no time to get mad. She'd get mad later. "Here, take this," she threw the blow dryer at her sister who clumsily managed to catch the hairdryer. "Make sure you aim it at them!"

Brittany's eyes immediately scanned the floors like a raven once her sister nodded her head and properly aimed the firearm. When she caught her can of hairspray rolling towards one of the silhouettes, who was bending down to pick up her hairspray, she immediately grabbed the closest thing by her and threw it.

"Ow! Hey!" the black figure moaned, slightly hunched over.

Grabbing another object, getting ready to throw, Brittany glanced at the object in her hands. When she finally recognized it as her favorite pair of black _expensive _designer heels, her heart ached a little. The other match to her precious heels is probably what she threw earlier! "Oh, I'm sorry baby," she wailed to her shoe before sacrificing it as a weapon and throwing it at the black figure.

"Ow—!" The voice belonged to a male.

Brittany, now worried about her poor heels, took control of her mind and snatched the hairspray can. Instantly she began to spray the thick, sticky smell into the air at the two silhouettes. And not wanting to waste her hairspray dry, she soon began to hit the man closer to her with her hairspray can.

"TAKE THAT! AND THAT! AND THAT!" she screeched, continuing to wear her arms dead tired; but she didn't care. This was war. She was going to win. She was determined.

"Ow! Hey! Stop that—!" the man shouted.

Brittany rolled her eyes. As if she would ever….

"Hey! BRITTANY! Britt! Stop! Stop it—!" She raised her eyebrows, still in the mode of attack.

"What? How do you…how do you know my name…?" Okay, now she was officially creeped out. This guy obviously was some stalker or something…

"It's me! Britt! Stop it already!"

Suddenly the lights flashed on.

Brittany, her arm still limp into swinging the hairspray can at the man, finally stopped when he got the strength to grab hold of her wrists. Her ice cold blue eyes nearly popped out of its sockets.

"_ALVIN?!_" she screeched, breathless. She blinked.

Alvin, face contorted, huffed, "_Yes! It's me!"_

"Whoa…" She studied his face alarmed. "It really is you…" She shook her head and searched the floor; when she finally spotted her target only a few feet away, she lunged at them, hugging them close. "My poor darlings!"

Alvin's jaw dropped down to the ground. "Okay, what is this?! I'm the one who got attacked! And you go off caring for your _shoes?"_

Coming to a strong stand, Brittany lashed, "Yes—because I care more about these heels than I could ever for YOU!" she stated, her face saying "duh."

Alvin could only gawk.

"Plus I had to sacrifice these poor things on you! Do you know how _horrible—_how_ hard_ that was?!" she fired, setting her black heels carefully down on a nearby countertop, and marching to come face to face with her rival.

"Oh," Alvin snickered heartlessly, "but do you know where you aimed that?!"

Freezing like the icicles forming on the roof outside of the Miller's house, Brittany stared deep into the pair of sky blue eyes across from her. Dropping her gaze to the ground in thought, she flashed her gaze back up when it finally hit her.

"Well it wasn't _my _fault I happened to aim and hit there miraculously! It was dark!" She couldn't help but feel an accomplishment of amusement. And just as fast as the amusement came, confusion flooded her mind. This really wasn't her fault… "What the _heck_ are you even doing here?!" she bursted. This _obviously_ wouldn't have ever happened if he never broke into their house like a burglar! _Duh… _Was he really that dumb to see that?

"What else?" he breathed, out of breath. "We came to check up on you girls!" He shook his head in aggravation. "Gosh! Lady you'd be one heck of a nightmare to come home to!"

Ignoring his comment at the moment, Brittany quoted, "'We'?"

He rolled his eyes, hunching over his knees slightly. "Yes!" he exclaimed, exhilarated, pointing his finger.

Following his guide, she soon found Simon, hand still on light switch.

"YOU'RE HERE TOO?!" she shrieked. Why in the world would they come to their home at such a late time?! Were they stupid? _Obviously…_

Simon jumped back, running into the wall, his glasses going crooked. Quickly, he readjusted them and stated, "H-hey, it wasn't _my _idea!" Pointing a finger over at Alvin, he gasped, "I-I-I—it was A-Alvin's brilliant plan!"

Blinking, Brittany snapped her head toward the victim. Alvin lurched to a fixed composition, his sky blue eyes wide.

"Well, jeez—_thanks Si—_love you too!" He shook his head, looking betrayed. "Some brother _you _are," he muttered before arguing, "you know, I ALWAYS thought brothers were supposed stick by each other—you know, stand by each other…" He brought his hand up into a fist for emphasis.

Shrugging, Simon sighed, "Well, when that brother is you, Alvin, there will certainly be some exceptions." He pursed his lips, eyebrows raised.

"Yup," Alvin nodded his head lamely, "definitely can feel the love." He snickered, eyeing Simon with such displeasure. Flickering his eyes over to Brittany, she stood, emotionless, blinking.

After a few more seconds, Brittany looked down at her metallic pink hairspray, before glancing back up at Alvin.

_CLANG!_

"_Ow! Woman!_" Alvin's hand immediately shot to his head, rubbing it in a massaging manner. He gave Brittany a confused look. "WHY?" he whined, pacing his steps as if trying to walk off the pain.

A sick, sweet smile curled up on Brittany's lips. "Just because…" She answered, shrugging her shoulders lightly.

Was the answer really not that obvious to him? This was a chance for her to hit him for no reason. Well, in all honesty, she had every single reason _to _hit him; now she only had to hit him a million more times to make up for everything he ever did to her.

"Wait, sorry," Jeanette spoke up, stepping into the kitchen, clutching the blow dryer close to her chest, "but, what made you boys really actually, you know, umm, _come _here?"

Alvin opened his mouth but Simon beat him to the chase. Alvin could only scowl, still rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, like Alvin, did say, we came to make sure you girls were doing fine."

"But _why? Why _did you need to 'make sure us girls were doing fine'?" Brittany snorted. She was old enough to take care of herself AND her little sister. _ALONE._

Simon adjusted his black framed glasses and shrugged, mouth opening, but Alvin's voice speaking up loudly in replace.

"Well, Dave and Ms. Miller are out of town for Eleanor's and Theodore's weird cook-off thing…" He lifted an eyebrow, giving a hint. Brittany simply crossed her arms, strictly raising her right eyebrow. After a few seconds passed by, Alvin exhaled excessively and finished with, "Ms. Miller was _worried _about you guys—"

"_Girls," _Brittany muttered. She wasn't a "guy."

"—and she asked Simon and I to check up on you two, so there you have it." He flashed her smug smile. "I guess you can consider Simon and me to be your 'knight in shining armor!'"

Brittany not once flinched, blinked, or moved from her spot. She stayed frozen. All she could do was look at him unimpressed and state, "I don't need a knight—although I would be good with a slave."

"Uh, yeah—keep dreamin' hon," Alvin snickered. "'Cause it isn't ever gonna happen." He finalized with the movements of his hands slicing the chilled air.

Before Brittany could reply, Jeanette jumped in, "Wait, so…Ms. Miller asked you boys to check up on us?"

"Umm, yes, as a matter of fact she did." Simon stated, stepping forward to stand by Jeanette. "In fact, she wanted us to check up on you girls about every—err—hour…if I can remember correctly, that is…" After a few seconds passed by, Simon confirmed, nodding his head, "Yup, it was every hour."

"Ugh!" Brittany stomped her foot. "You've _got _to be _KIDDING _ME!" This was horrible! And to think she thought her drive back home from work (which was at an outlet she absolutely adored; she only worked there to get money and discounts at the store) was wretchedly miserable! _Ms. Miller! _She angrily thought. _Why?! _Seriously, though, WHY?! Did Ms. Miller hate her or something?!

Sure, Ms. Miller and Dave had to—well, they didn't _have _to—but they _chose_ to go support Eleanor and Theodore with their bake-off. The two made it to Nationals. And right now, they were currently heading to Florida; they left last night. Sure, yeah, that was a fairly significant thing and of course since Dave and Ms. Miller were pretty much their parents, they wanted to support their _precious _baby angels…and not to mention abandon the older kids because they still had _school _to attend to.

Brittany paused her track of thought. "Wait, you know you don't actually have to listen to Ms. Miller…" She hinted, hoping they'd get her point.

Alvin gave a hard cackle. "Ha! Yeah! We _could _choose that…" He put his hand to his chin, rubbing it in an intelligent way. Brittany gritted her teeth, trying to keep control of her hopes. "Hmm—but," he dragged out, "I think I'll stick around and get on your nerves—it'd be much more fun." His smooth smile evolved into an intimidating smirk when he could factually see the fire raging in Brittany's ice blue eyes.

"Why you little—"

But before Brittany could outrage and explode, Simon interrupted quickly, "And plus we actually did promise Ms. Miller we would…"—he swallowed when Brittany snapped her head boring her fire-blazing eyes into his own—"we would…umm…" He tugged at the collar of his navy blue sweater. "You know…" He chuckled nervously, glancing at both Alvin and Jeanette for a little help.

"Oh, u-uh, well, umm…" Jeanette glanced between the two Seville brothers standing helplessly in the heat of the situation. After a few seconds of silence, and Brittany's blood was near to explosion from her body, Jeanette lit up like a light bulb lit above her head. "Oh! H-how did you two even get in here?"

"Well," Alvin coolly said, "like secret agents, we snuck in through that window right over there."

"You're kidding…" Brittany grumbled as her gaze trailed over to the window above the kitchen sink. Now why on earth was _that_ window _unlocked? _She eyed the only other person in the room that actually lived in this house.

Simon quickly keyed in, "And this wasn't my idea. Trust me. This was all Alvin's. He was the one that dragged me along—literally—and because your front door was locked (clearly for that's the only reasonable thing for the door to be doing whether this is at night or during the day), and my ignorant older brother refused to listen to me on the plan to just simply 'go home,' we ended up going with his plan of 'checking all the windows.'" He folded his arms before adding, "And, that window over there just so happened to be unlocked…" He then cleared his throat and added, "And the 'crash' you probably heard was because we accidently knocked over one of the pots sitting on the window-sill."

"'We'?" Alvin shook his head and snickered, "I hope when you say 'we' you mean YOU and only _you,_" he jabbed a finger accusingly through the air.

"W-w-well, yes—and I'm terribly sorry for that—but don't worry: I _did_ clean it up and I _will_ replace the pot… I promise."

Slowly, Brittany fixed her gaze on her sister's. "_Jeanette! _Did you open that window?!" she wailed, flailing her arms up.

"We-well, I-I accidently burned something in the oven and I-I-I had to let some smoke out…" The words spilled out, while she gave Brittany an apologetic look, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "I'm really sorry, Brittany…" She placed her hands behind her back, still clutching onto the blow dryer.

But Brittany didn't respond. She was lost in a trance.

As she stared long and hard, she squinted her eyes, staring at her bespectacled sister's glasses lenses almost as if she was putting a curse or spell on them.

Flickering her ice cold blue eyes to the closest thing that told the same thing that faces on the walls would tell, her jaw stiffened.

She stared with such intensity at the oven. She didn't care for the looks that the Seville's or her sister were giving. They weren't of her concern anymore. Everything that painted red, blue, and violet in her eyes were immediately pushed down to the back of her mind.

1:00 A.M.

She held her breath. _No, no, no, no, no_…this was not happening to her…!

And as soon as the one thing she absolutely did NOT want to happen occurred, she nearly screamed her head off. But due to her well-kept composure, she kept a calm face.

Taking in deep breaths, she slowly turned to face Alvin, who had a twisted look of confusion and wonder. "Are you…okay…?" he hesitantly asked.

Smiling sweetly, Brittany raised her arm holding the hairspray, and just as his eyes widened, he got hit…and it was _hard_.

"What the _heck! _Brittany!" His hand instantly flung to the place on his body that took the blow. He glanced at his arm, then back at Brittany, then back at his arm. "This is probably gonna _bruise_ now," he whined, giving her a look of pure agony.

"Good." Was all she could say. She couldn't say anything more.

She glanced back at the clock on the oven.

1:01 A.M.

Ugh. Now she was going to be going to bed past _1:00 A.M._

Her night really _couldn't_ get _any better, _now could it.

* * *

**Again, I really hope you enjoyed and liked this! I hope it was at least somewhat humorous...and enjoyable... And about the part where Brittany complains about males inventing the blow dryer... Why I put that is because males really are the ones who invent female products! Like the flippin' bra! I'm not kidding! Anyway...**

**Please review and tell me what you think! :D**

**Thanks so much for reading this!**


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